


Love Through the Ages: Excerpts from the Quwrof Letters

by Aer



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Epistolary, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, the vampire stuff isn’t the focus at all it’s literally background, this would be a slow burn but we’re speedrunning this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aer/pseuds/Aer
Summary: Letters never sent, words never spoken, feelings never known- until the Smithsonian decided to make an exhibit out of them, inadvertently changing a centuries old status quo.
Relationships: Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Kurapika
Comments: 16
Kudos: 163
Collections: One-Shot Goldmine





	Love Through the Ages: Excerpts from the Quwrof Letters

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of [this](https://airilymusing.tumblr.com/post/620226391660773376/thinking-abt-immortality-and-how-meticulously) textpost, specifically the bit about the letter turning up as an exhibit.
> 
> Much love and thanks to Laviente for the beta!

**Love Through the Ages**

Love Through the Ages is an exhibit of the enduring nature of love, as witnessed through generations of writers.

* * *

**The Quwrof Letters**

A collection of letters thought to be written in the 1700s that was discovered carefully preserved in a mahogany lap desk. A selection of these letters is presented here to tell the intricate story of Quwrof and Curarpikt.

[Descriptions of each exhibit provided]

* * *

**Letter #1**

Found unaddressed at the bottom of the desk. Thought to be one of the first letters exchanged between the two.

[A yellowed scrap of paper with letters inked forcefully enough to have torn the fibers in places]

_Damn you, damn you all to hell. I could rain every curse I know upon your head and it would still never be enough after what you’ve done._

_I hate you. I despise everything you stand for. One day, I will find you. And then I will have your head._

* * *

**Letter #6**

The first letter not to consist almost entirely of curses, it exemplifies the deeply complicated relationship between the two, long before they become lovers.

[A letter that’s clearly been folded several times, written in a shaky, almost illegible hand that has been stained in places with drops of a rusty liquid]

_How dare you. How dare you say that to me. I can’t even begin to stomach the audacity it takes for you to stand there and tell me I’m better off now. I never wanted this. This is not the legacy my family would want to leave behind- no, this is no legacy at all._

_It makes me want to vomit. I’d do it all over those shiny black boots you always wear._

_How dare you._

* * *

**Letter #13**

This is thought to be when Quwrof began responding, as this is the first to adopt a more standard letter writing format as opposed to the previous informal notes.

[A letter that appears to have been crushed in a fist and then flattened back out. The writing is almost too worn to read]

_Wrlccywrlir,_

_If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I don’t think I’d believe it. I’m still not sure I didn’t just imagine it._

_Who knew that someone like you could cry? I didn’t think you were capable of it - if it weren’t for the fact that I have seen your heart with my own eyes I wouldn’t think you had one at all. A heart of stone, a heart of ice, or no heart at all - these are more fitting of a monster like you than the deceptive truth._

_I watched you weep for your fallen comrade like it was your heart that had been crushed instead of his, and I loathe you for it. _

_Curarpikt_

* * *

**Letter #19**

This marks the beginning of Curarpikt’s long journey to warming up towards Quwrof. 

[The letter is blackened in one corner, as if someone had held it to a candle flame before deciding against burning it. The writing is a rushed, hasty scrawl]

_To Quwrof Wrlccywrlir,_

_~~You really~~ _

_~~Why did you~~ _

_~~What could have possessed you to~~ _

_Thank you. I can’t believe I’m even writing those words, but you didn’t have to help me and you did. Maybe you were just repaying the favor - but I’ve never known you to care for anyone you might owe debts of gratitude to._

_And even so, most would argue that you didn’t have to go as far as you did._

_I never thought I’d owe my life to you._

_I don’t think I like the feeling._

_With ~~unwilling~~ gratitude,  
Curarpikt_

* * *

**Letter #20**

Sometimes, it just takes a friend to put in a good word for you. 

[The page is wrinkled in many places and worn as if it had been folded and unfolded many times]

_Wrlccywrlir,_

_Consider my debt to you paid threefold and let there be no more ties of obligation between us._

_...Your friends (subordinates? lackeys?) are much too good for you. I wonder what they see in you. Indeed, they were much more pleasant to deal with than you are. They were even decent to me, which is more than I can say about you._

_What do they see in you... ~~I wish I could see it too. Maybe then I’d understand...~~_

_Curarpikt_

* * *

**Letter #27**

Curarpikt’s emotions grow in complexity as the two continue to exchange letters. 

[The page is water-stained, in some places deeply enough that the ink has run, blurring the writing]

_To ~~Quw~~ Wrlccywrlir,_

_I never realized this, but now you and I are the only ones left. The only ones who remember what it was like when they were alive and whole. What a strange chain to be bound to you by. Most of my chains are of my own making but somehow, the one forged by simple circumstance seems more powerful than all the others._

_Perhaps it’s only that I never imagined I’d have anything in common with you, much less something as personal as these memories. Not that you think of them the same way I do, but somehow I find that less important than the fact you do at all. There are precious few remnants of so many loved ones anywhere, after all. Time takes its toll upon even the most beloved monuments. For now, our memories stand strong. They will work for as long as I can make it so._

_You understood that even before I did, I think, but we have that in common now too. What a thing to remember, that the man I once loathed would be the one who understood me best?_

_~~This is the best legacy I can offer my family now. Do you think they’d accept it? Do you think they would understand? I’m not sure which scares me more- the idea that they wouldn’t, or the idea that they would.~~ _

_Regards,  
Curarpikt_

* * *

**Letter #30**

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend” is a cliche for a reason.

[The page is neat with crisp handwriting, only marred by slightly crinkled corners]

_To Wrlccywrlir,_

_Once, I never thought to find a greater enemy than you, much less to one day find you as my ally._

_Somehow, both have come to pass. I thought you were a monster, but as I looked at terror made flesh, I knew real evil existed- and I knew that it was not you. In that moment, I knew you were a man, as complex and flawed as the rest of us, and capable of both good and ill. When contrasted against the manifestation of pure evil in human shape we now face, my previous assertions of your monstrosity seemed… foolish, and the power I once detested suddenly a godsend. I can only be grateful for every bit of strength that I can marshal to my side in this fight, which somehow includes you._

_Strange times might make for strange bedfellows, but the presence of such depravity demands even stranger allies. And somehow, it... works, and works well._

_Is it wrong that we fight together so well? I’ve fought you so many times I can claim better knowledge of your abilities than anyone. You, the same for me. Something that had so frustrated me previously now proves our salvation - how ironic. ~~Did it feel as good for you as it did me?~~_

_I know we said that our alliance would be done after we’d dealt with our shared foe, and that we would be free to act as we always have. I think, perhaps, we were shortsighted when we made that agreement. Though not because I feel as though I cannot bear to ally with you for any longer, but because I am not sure I can simply return to our previous enmity now that I know what it is to guard your back, eat at the same fire, or share a drink. In short, now that I have seen the truth of you beyond my own preconceptions and found..._

_I don’t know what I’ve found actually, only that it’s not what I expected at all. But it’s not my enemy._

_~~I wonder if you think the same about me.~~ _

_Sincerely,  
Curarpikt_

* * *

**Letter #33**

Finally, the seeds of friendship begin to bloom - no enemy required. 

[The letter is ripped along one edge but otherwise readable. The penmanship is neat, but without flourishes]

_To Quwrof Wrlccywrlir,_

_You saved my life in that ambush today. Of course, then I saved yours when that guard dog would have caught you. Not that it matters much - I think we’ve finally made it past our scrupulously counted debts and balanced books. And it only took overwhelming odds, a being of pure evil, and at least two of our friends smacking some sense into us to get there._

_Or maybe just the fact that if we lose this, we die and so does any hope for a better world. That does seem like good motivation to stop accounting for every drop of blood, no? _

_I always knew I was stubborn, but it looks as though I’m not the only one._

_Still, we’ve come a long way. We have even further to go, but that’s something to worry about later, don’t you think?_

_Sincerely,  
Curarpikt_

* * *

**Letter #36**

But never did the course of love run smoothly.

[The note is written on what appears to be a piece of scrap paper, the handwriting rushed]

_He knows where we are. God help us all, but he found us. I haven’t seen you in weeks, and now he’s found us._

_If there is a God, I doubt he listens to the prayers of people like us. If he did, I know I’d be praying that you still lived._

_If you’re alive - if I’m alive - find us._

* * *

**Letter #37**

The joyful reunion. 

[Another piece of scrap paper, unaddressed. The handwriting is small and neat, almost cramped to fit]

_There was a moment when I thought I’d never see you again. And a thought that was previously so sweet to me tasted so bitter now. Strange how things change..._

_Somehow, we both survived. I don’t even know how, but we did. And I am... I am glad._

* * *

**Letter #40**

The struggle against their unnamed foe continues, but our two lovers still manage to find time to carry on their correspondence. 

[A full page with jagged edges, covered in looping cursive]

_To Quwrof Wrlccywrlir,_

_What will you do if we win? Do you think we will? ~~Of course you do, because you’re just that arrogant.~~ But even you must admit, the odds are stacked against us, and there are days I’m not sure I’ll wake again. Still, we must persevere. The other option is even worse. But what do you see in your future? I’m not sure what I see in mine. _

_...I think I’d like to go visit the country. This war of shadows is exhausting. Some time in a small, peaceful town or village away from all of this sounds... nice._

_I haven’t had peace in a long time. I think it’s time I rediscover what it feels like._

_Now, I just have to survive to make it there._

_Sincerely,  
Curarpikt_

* * *

**Letter #45**

The experience of victory and a long-anticipated conversation. 

[A neat rectangle of parchment, carefully written but with ink spots in places]

_To Quwrof Wrlccywrlir,_

_We won. Our enemy is defeated, and we are victorious._

_Now what?_

_We once said that we would simply return to the status quo. I’ve already once said I thought that I wouldn’t be able to return to viewing you as an enemy, and now I know I cannot. But what of you? Now that we have drunk our victory toasts side by side, our friends intermingled in celebration, can you see me as your foe?_

_Do you want to? I’ve long since renounced the vendetta that once bound us. If you wish it, you’ll never need to see me again. ~~I sincerely hope that isn’t the case...~~ I still plan to travel, now that we are free of the menace that had loomed over us. Perhaps... Perhaps I’ll see you once I’m back._

_~~Perhaps you’d like to come with-.~~ _

_If I don’t... Just know I’m glad to have known you._

_Sincerely,  
Curarpikt_

* * *

__

**Letter #49**

But as it turns out, absence only made their hearts grow fonder.

[The paper is an almost brown shade of yellow, with casual, sloppy-looking handwriting]

_To Quwrof,_

_After traveling without pause for quite some time, I have decided to stay awhile in a small village in the mountains. It is quiet and the people are friendly, even to complete strangers. I like it. I think it will be good for me; I might even make some new friends._

_This sabbatical from the rest of my life has, indeed, been for the better. I find myself sleeping for more than a few hours at a time, and for the first time since I can remember, I have a better appetite and more energy too. Still, I cannot help but feel like something is missing each time I think to speak with you and remember you are no longer here. I find myself continually storing things I wish to tell you the next time I see you, even though I know that may never come to pass._

_~~The very thought fills me with dread and I’m not sure why.~~ _

_In any case, I hope you are well wherever you are now. I hope you are happy._

_~~I hope I will see you again to find out for myself.~~ _

_Best regards,  
Curarpikt _

* * *

**Letter #55**

The story begins to draw to its close as our hero begins to realize his feelings.

[The page is deeply yellowed with smears of what appear to be dried mud around the edges and covered in relaxed handwriting]

_To Quwrof,_

_It’s been months since I came to Whareu, and I’m still here, though, in some ways, I’m not sure why I have yet to feel the urge to move on. I don’t have much to do around here. I help the villagers with anything they might need - I’m not half bad at repair work, and there’s no such thing as too many hands when it comes to farming, but overall that’s still not much for someone used to leading a war in the shadows. I think... I think I might actually be getting bored—what a novel idea._

_I still think of you almost every day. Life here is simple, which is a double edged-sword. While it allows me plenty of time to reflect and relax, it also leaves me with much too much time to think without any convenient distractions. Continually thinking of you as I hunted you down was one thing - it only made sense I would obsess over your every move. After all, as my most hated enemy, I had to always prepare to defeat you. And then you were no longer my enemy, but I had to be able to fight alongside you, and that necessitated just as much awareness of you. I always had another reason._

_Now... now I have no such excuse, and it has forced me to confront many things about myself I had never thought to explore. It has led me down some... startling pathways to realizations I dare not voice even now, but it certainly keeps you first in my thoughts. ~~I wonder if you think of me as much as I think of you?~~ _

_I... I need to think more before I can bear to ink my thoughts into this paper._

_I don’t think I’m going to be bored for a while._

_~~With lo-~~ Best regards,  
Curarpikt _

* * *

**Letter #58**

Now, the thrilling conclusion of one of the greatest epistolary romances of all time.

[The most pristine of all the letters, the words carefully and neatly penned and the paper unwrinkled, only a few spots around the edges showing the age]

_Dear Quwrof,_

_It rained today, finally. I stood outside in it until I was soaked through, and it was glorious. It was as if the whole world was made anew among the rainbows. Never has there been a more lovely vision, save only the one that I will always hold more dear than any earthly delight. I wish you could have been there to see it with me. I would have run hand in hand with you like we were children once again until we were both drenched and breathless with our laughter, and then all that I find beautiful in the world would have been there with me._

_It is your face that I have found to be the most beautiful sight ever made upon our earth. You only have to look into my eyes to take my breath, to smile at me to steal my heart, and to hold out your hand for me to give you everything I am. You are a thief, but you will never need to steal me, for I am already yours._

_Perhaps that is too bold. Even as I pen the words I can scarcely believe my own daring in putting what I feel onto this page. It feels like too much to even think, let alone write. All those years ago, when I first began this strange correspondence, I don’t think I ever would have imagined this would be where I’d end up. And yet... I wouldn’t trade a moment of this journey, for as long and complicated as it was._

_Not when it’s given me you._

_Anything one person can be to another, you have been to me: stranger, enemy, ally, friend... Love. Our lives have shaped each other for so long that I don’t know who I’d be without you, and I don’t want to._

_I think this will be my last letter to you. Letters were how I told you my true feelings when I couldn’t - or wouldn’t - speak to you face-to-face, which is behind us now- a fitting note to end this strange correspondence on._

_I’ll see you soon._

_With all my love,  
Curarpikt_

* * *

“Sir? Excuse me, sir? The museum is closing.”

Chrollo snapped awake from the reverie he’d descended into as he poured over the letters sealed in their glass cases. A museum employee hovered by his elbow, his mouth pinched tightly. 

“The museum is closing if you would please begin making your way to the front.” He said, clearly not for the first time if the almost sing-song quality of his voice was any indication. They were the only two left in the room, and Chrollo silently cursed himself. He _never_ lost track of his surroundings like this. 

It was just... Those letters... What had been written, so long ago... He could barely think straight, much less be bothered to monitor every bit of activity around him.

 _He’d never known_. Oh, he’d been aware of some of it - hard to miss when the guy that hates your guts abruptly stops, but the rest... He hadn’t known. There hadn’t been even a hint of anything like this.

The museum employee cleared his throat, sounding a hairsbreadth from tapping a watch in silent condemnation of Chrollo’s continued presence in the building. 

Chrollo dragged up a charming smile from the tiny portion of his brain that was not currently dedicated to processing a revelation hundreds of years old and turned it on the man bothering him. He was pleased to note a slight flush on the employee’s cheeks - even with most of his attention firmly elsewhere, he still had it. “Of course. My apologies, I got lost in the letters and didn’t hear the announcement.” Chrollo gestured to the display in front of him, the clear centerpiece of the exhibit. 

The man’s face lit up. “Ah, the Quwrof collection! Truly an astonishing find - did you know they were found in the attic of a house that was about to be demolished? Over fifty of them, all carefully sealed up in a lap desk in near pristine condition. It’s pure luck they were found, too. The previous owner was just going to throw the desk away until his daughter opened it and found them.” He sighed, wistful. Chrollo hid a scowl at the very thought, and only nodded along as the man kept talking.

“Can you even imagine what those two must have been like? It sounds like it was a hell of a relationship. All the letters are so passionate, whether it’s in love or hate. Some of those early ones especially.” The employee offered a chuckle. ”All of us at the museum have wondered why Quwrof kept those first ones. They’re not exactly pleasant, you know? Certainly not the kind of thing you expect to find stored so carefully that not even _bugs_ could get to them.”

“Maybe even Quwrof didn’t know,” Chrollo suggested, his mouth dry for no reason at all. “Maybe he just felt the same connection as Curarpikt did without even knowing why.” The syllables of Kurapika’s old name rolled as seamlessly off his tongue now as they had all those years ago. Chrollo had to stop himself from saying it again and again, to see if it tasted different on his lips under the weight of his new knowledge. 

The employee laughed. “That’s as good a guess as any since the only letters we have are Curarpikt’s. It makes for kind of a one-sided conversation for us, but if anyone has Quwrof’s letters, they aren’t sharing.” He stumbled over the pronunciation of both names, and Chrollo bit back a grimace at the butchering. 

_’That would be because ‘Quwrof’ never wrote any. In fact, Quwrof didn’t even know he was being written to.’_ Chrollo thought wryly, but did _not_ say. “You mentioned more letters? Where are they? I’d like to read them as well, if possible.” He asked, instead.

“Oh! Well, to be honest, they aren’t all very... interesting? We included the first one so everyone could get a decent idea of how astonishing the change is, but all the earliest ones are just. Well. A lot of cursing and death threats, like the first one? Nothing actually relevant. And some of the others are very mundane, just about whatever Curarpikt had seen or done that day. And while that’s very interesting to historians, it isn’t really the focus of this exhibit.” The employee shrugged, offering a conciliatory smile. 

“Still, I’m very interested in reading them.” Chrollo let his lips pull up into the eerie smile that had once terrorized entire nations. This was a piece of Kurapika he never even knew existed, and he didn’t care how mundane or _boring_ these philistines might find it. _He wanted it_ because ultimately he was still every bit the greedy thief Kurapika had named him in that letter, and he always wanted more than what was given to him. The employee’s swallow was audible in the hush. 

“W-well, the originals are stored in our archive, but I believe they are scheduled to be digitized along with the rest of our collection sometime this year.” He stammered. “So once that’s done, you can read them whenever you’d like!” 

“I see.” The displeasure Chrollo felt at that was evident by the twist of his mouth. 

The employee’s voice trembled slightly. “Terribly sorry for the inconvenience. But you can sign up for email updates to hear about our progress and what’s been digitized weekly, so you’ll know right away when the items you’re interested in are done!” 

Chrollo tilted his head, considering the man. His eyes, he knew, had gone cold and remote. The trembling became more pronounced, the employee’s gaze flickering around the room as if he’d suddenly remembered that he was entirely alone in the room with Chrollo. “But now it really is past closing, so I must ask you to leave. You can always come back tomorrow!”

“I’m afraid that that is not sufficient,” Chrollo sighed, mock regretful. “And I will not be leaving without what is mine.” 

The man’s lips formed the beginning of what might have been a word or perhaps a shout. Before he could do more than draw in a breath, Chrollo was already speeding through the space between them faster than any eye could ever track, one hand chopping with exquisite accuracy against the man’s neck and rendering him unconscious. In another moment, he punched through the glass protecting the letters, ripping out each panel with savage force as razored shards sprayed around the room. 

In contrast, his fingers were gentle as he took each piece of paper from their frames, carefully tucking them away in his coat. It wasn’t all of them, a fact which burned, but it would have to do for now.

Then, the alarm went off. 

Rolling his eyes, Chrollo stepped over the museum employee’s slumped form, pulling out his cell as he did. Shalnark answered on the first ring.

“Yo, Danchou! What’s up?” He didn’t bother to ask why sirens were ringing in the background of the call - just one of the many reasons Chrollo’s friends were the best. 

“Shal.” The smile that curved Chrollo’s lips now was far more genuine. “Can you hack the Smithsonian?”

The blond scoffed loudly. “Of course! What do you need?”

Chrollo ducked through a door labeled Emergency Use Only, the lock breaking with a hard twist of his wrist. He took the stairs down two at a time. “Two things. First, can you wipe the camera footage for today at all the museums? Second, I need you to find where they’re storing something that isn’t on display. It’ll probably be called the Quwrof Letters, or something like that.” 

“No problem!” Shal chirped over the sudden sound of rapid-fire typing. There were no questions about what Chrollo was doing - Shal knew him well enough to guess some of it, and trusted he’d learn the rest as Chrollo felt like telling. Chrollo really did have the best friends. 

“Great. Text me where the documents are once you find them. Let everyone know I’ll be out of touch for a few days.”

“Oooh, got a hot date?” Shal teased. 

Chrollo touched the pocket with the letters. “If I’m lucky.” He murmured, smile softening. 

Shalnark’s laugh was bright with surprise and delight. “Damn, alright! Get it, Danchou.” His smirk was audible, and Chrollo knew he was in for some teasing later. That was alright, though. 

He chuckled, knowing Shal would hear the fondness in his mirth. “See you, Shal.”

“Bye~!”

Chrollo shoved the phone back into his pocket just as he reached the bottom floor. Pulling up the hood of his coat to shadow his face, he stepped into the cloudy day, quickly vanishing into the throngs of people as the alarm shrieked impotently behind him.

* * *

_Hey, wanna grab a coffee tomorrow?_

Forget letters - texting was where it was at, these days, Chrollo mused to himself, smirking a little. He had always been the kind of vampire to keep up with all the latest developments in technology- if only because Shalnark made it impossible not to- but he had to admit, the cell phone was far beyond anything he never could have dreamed of, back in the day. 

Then again, back in the day, he’d never have even imagined inviting the _chain user_ out for coffee and civil conversation, much less fully expected his _friend_ to happily accept. Which one was more mind-blowing, really? Chrollo knew which one he would have found harder to believe. His phone buzzed.

_...Sure. What time?_

As always, Kurapika was straight to the point, suspicion practically radiating off of the short message. Chrollo smiled fondly before tapping out a time and place, but no explanation. Perhaps it was cruel to ambush Kurapika like this, but...

Well. _Chrollo_ was still processing things in the light of those letters, and explanations seemed like they’d be better suited to a face to face conversation. Texting beat letters, to be sure, but nothing was better for getting the measure of a situation than seeing someone’s face. And for something as delicate as this... 

His phone vibrated again, a short acknowledgment popping up on the screen.

_Ok._

He grinned and turned the device off. He had a quick _errand_ to finish before he would be ready for tomorrow’s meeting, after all.

* * *

Chrollo leaned his chin against his palm, elbow propped casually on the table as he waited. Kurapika was late, but that was practically the norm at this point in the semester.

The bell jingled above the door, and Chrollo’s eyes flicked up to spot the newcomer - not that he really needed to, with Kurapika’s presence washing over him like an ocean wave. He easily tracked the blond head of hair bobbing and weaving through the crowd until Kurapika finally slid into the seat across from him at their usual table in the back. 

“Class ran long,” Kurapika explained, taking a sip of the latte Chrollo had ordered for him. Chrollo nodded and leaned back, letting his arm fall to his lap. 

“I figured. What was the issue this time?” It’s not the first time this class has gone past time, usually for no good reason. 

“Idiot trying to argue his last test grade instead of shutting up and letting the rest of us get on with the discussion.” Kurapika made a disgusted face. “I honestly don’t know why he didn’t just drop the class after the first test, it’s obvious to all of us that he has no clue what’s actually going on.” He took another sip, visibly letting the aggravation go. “But we’re not here for that. What’s going on?” 

Chrollo pushed the folder he’d been holding across the table. Raising an eyebrow, Kurapika flipped it open, skimming the words written there. He didn’t react beyond a few quick blinks of realization before shutting the folder again. “Where did you get these? I thought I’d lost them _years_ ago.”

“Found them in the Smithsonian as part of their Valentine’s exhibit on ‘Love Through the Ages’.” Chrollo drawled. “The great love story of Quwrof and Curarpikt.” He leaned forward. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“The _Smithsonian_? Then how do you have - never mind. You _robbed the Smithsonian_?” Kurapika hissed, eyes wide. He didn’t appear to have even heard the question. 

“What, like it’s hard?” Chrollo volleyed back, smirking. 

“ _So_ not the issue here!” Kurapika snapped, an angry glare narrowing dark brown eyes. His control had gotten better, a part of Chrollo’s brain noted. He’d have to get better at finding the right buttons to press. 

Chrollo shrugged, smirk widening. “I don’t see the issue. They were mine anyway. I was just... reclaiming lost property.” 

“Wha- no, they aren’t! If anything, they’re mine, considering _I wrote them_!”

At this final confirmation of what he’d already known, Chrollo sobered. “But, they’re addressed to me.” He said softly. “Which brings us right back around - Kura, why didn’t you ever _tell me_?”

The blond looked away, a faint blush suffusing pale skin. “You were never supposed to see those. I just needed an outlet, _some_ way to feel like I could tell you what I thought of you.”

“So, you wrote letters to your enemy?”

“And then to my ally, and then my friend, and then...” The vampire-hunter-turned-vampire shrugged. “It occurred to me that it was probably ridiculous, how much time I spent thinking of you. Then I started wondering why that was. And... you know the rest.” Kurapika bit his lip, eyes fixed firmly on the table in front of him. His grip was beginning to bend the folder, knuckles white.

Chrollo reached out and tugged it away before Kurapika could damage the letters within. Kurapika’s gaze shot up, and this time Chrollo didn’t let him look away. Their eyes caught and held, the faintest hint of red sparking around the edges of Kurapika’s irises. 

Chrollo smiled. 

“Kura.” He said, soft as a butterfly’s wing, and the most gorgeous scarlet he’d ever seen in a vampire’s eyes blazed to life. 

“I didn’t say anything because there wasn’t anything to say.” 

Chrollo blinked, the very faintest hurt beginning to stir to life. Kurapika didn’t look away as he continued to speak.

“For a long time, I hated you. Then, I realized you were the only one who even knew what it was like to be someone like me. Then, we were friends.” He blinked once, long and slow. “Confessing wasn’t an option - our equilibrium was too delicate to risk unbalancing simply because I had developed feelings.” Kurapika offered a shrug, nonchalant. “Your friendship was always more important to me.” 

He smiled then, and Chrollo felt his own heart break at the depth of emotion in that smile. “You don’t need to worry about me,” Kurapika continued. “I’ve long since accepted that you would never feel the same, and I’ve made my peace with that.” 

He could feel something soft under his fingertips. Kurapika froze. Chrollo blinked and followed his arm out to where his hand, entirely without his consent, had cupped Kurapika’s cheek. 

“You never asked how I felt.” He said, barely above a whisper. His thumb stroked beneath one devastatingly beautiful eye.

“I didn’t need to.” Kurapika’s voice was just as hushed. “It was obvious.” 

Chrollo shook his head. “Still making snap judgments after all these years?” He chided, though there was no force to it. 

“I counted myself lucky that we’d managed to become friends at all. Asking for more seemed... greedy.” Kurapika tilted his face into Chrollo’s hand, barely aware of the movement. In contrast, every inch of Chrollo felt as if he was hypersensitive and so attuned to the blond that he could swear he could feel the air currents stirred by the slow sweep of Kurapika’s eyelashes.

“Luckily, I’m greedy enough for both of us.” And with that, he leaned forward and brought their lips together. 

The kiss was slow, gentle, and felt like it could rattle the foundations of the very earth.

Finally, Chrollo had to draw back, his back protesting at the awkward position. Kurapika let him, fingertips pressing against his shock parted lips. Chrollo offered him a quiet smile. 

“What- why?” Kurapika stuttered, eyes wide. 

Chrollo laughed, soft and fond. “I’m a thief, Kura. Did you really expect me to find out there was a treasure I’d never seen and not take it for myself?” 

Kurapika’s eyes narrowed, anger beginning to swirl in crimson depths. “Do you mean to tell me that you just-“ 

“Kura.“ Chrollo said, simple and quiet, cutting off the accusation before it could form and destroy the moment. The sentence died half spoken on Kurapika’s lips. “You’ve always been the one with the words.” While Chrollo preferred to let his actions speak for him, and they both knew it. “Do I need to say it when your letters have already said it all?” 

“They’re only half the conversation,” Kurapika said, unknowingly echoing the museum employee from yesterday. But this time, Chrollo didn’t have to bite back the truth of the matter. 

“Only because I never knew there was a conversation to be had.” And truly, he hadn’t. But once he had... Oh, how he _wanted_ it, and wanted it all.

“And now that you do?” Kurapika looked far too shy for someone who had written letters so passionate that they had convinced an entire museum of the existence of a love affair. Chrollo didn’t have his grace with words, and so defaulted to the one thing he’d always known, for as long as he could remember - the only way to have something was to steal it.

“You said I didn’t have to steal you. Can I anyway?” Though he usually didn’t ask first - then again, Kurapika had so often been the exception to every rule he’d ever had. 

...Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised not only at the letters but also his own reaction to them.

Kurapika bit his lip. “Only if I can steal you too.” He said, soft but bold, and Chrollo laughed, delighted.

“You’ve never stolen a thing in your life.” He teased. Kurapika’s cheeks went pink. 

“Then you’ll have to teach me.” He glanced aside, then back at Chrollo through lowered lashes. The look struck Chrollo somewhere deep in his gut, and he drew in a deep breath. 

“Yeah, I can do that.” He confirmed, his voice suddenly hoarse. 

Kurapika’s lips curved up into a smile, so bright and warm, it was like a little piece of the sun had suddenly appeared in the gloomy evening. He reached across the table to lace their fingers together. 

A companionable silence fell as they finally drank their long-neglected coffees.

“...I still can’t believe you robbed the Smithsonian,” Kurapika said, shaking his head. 

“It really wasn’t difficult.” Chrollo rolled his eyes. “Break some glass, hack a few cameras- child’s play.”

“I shudder to think about what kind of child you were if that’s what you consider playing.” The blond’s voice was dry.

Chrollo smirked. Kurapika rolled his eyes, but his fingers never so much as twitched in Chrollo’s hold. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Kurapika suggested after another long moment. 

“Oh?” Chrollo purred, quirking an eyebrow. It was more habitual than anything, but he still enjoyed watching as a blush tinted the tips of Kurapika’s ears red. 

“Nothing like that.” Kurapika’s eyes returned to their warm brown and narrowed at him. “But I’d like to take a closer look at those letters, and somehow I suspect that waving around stolen property in public would just be asking for trouble.”

“Only if you let me read them with you and tell me about them so I can find out what didn’t make it to the page.” Chrollo bargained. 

Kurapika scoffed and stood, using their linked hands to pull Chrollo with him. “Fat chance. Your ego doesn’t need that much stroking.” 

“Oh, now you know I’m going to make you tell me _everything_.”

“Hmmph.” They stepped out into the cool evening, pressed together from shoulder to fingertips, and Chrollo let a small, private smile steal over his face. It had been a long time since he’d felt like this - like he was setting out down a new path and didn’t know exactly what the next day would bring.

He couldn’t wait to find out.


End file.
